Easy meat

Well, having seen my beloved Gas get completely annihilated by Southampton 5-1 on Tuesday (total revenge for our beating them 3-2 at St Mary's) I am glad to say there was one little bit of compensation on the horizon.
I usually have a bet on the outcome with my colleague in crime, sports news ed Dykesy, but this time we decided to do things a bit differently.
It started off as a £5 bet but, always one for an opportunity when it comes to throwing his money away, Dykesy decided that we should do things a bit differently. "I know, I'll bet that your lot win and you bet that my lot win. Then, the loser won't be so disappointed."
Good idea, and I am still looking for the catch, to be perfectly honest, particularly when as the week wore on he kept upping the stakes. I thought maybe he knew that Saints boss Alan Pardew was going to have to play his Under 15 side against us (mind you, they probably cost a few mill to put together - after all, it's the youth set up that discovered Theo Walcott and Gareth Bale).
Eventually we settled on £17, the vastly inflated cost of my admission to the derelict bombsite known as the Mem.
After that it was down to my old hero, Rickie Lambert - the man we sold and never replaced at the start of the season - to score the first two Saints goals as we were roasted on the pitch.
Leaving the ground at the bitter end at least I had the compensation of thinking: "Dykesy, you tw@t!"
A wit next to me put his finger on the reason for our defeat. "I blame the ball boys," he said. "They kept getting the ball back too quickly!"

Ramsey needed an overhaul on Monday so I paid a visit to my old mate Charlie in Cardiff. Having a few hours to kill I wondered what on earth I was going to do. I bought a £3 all-day bus travel pass and took a trip into the centre of town, fully intending to go swimming. The bus system has all changed in Cardiff and it now means that rather than get a trip straight to the International Swimming Pool on the No 8 or 9 I now had to get a 38 or 39 into town and change buses in the centre.
While my journey progressed I noticed that Glamorgan were playing their first county championship game at Sophia Gardens and that Monty Panesar was in the Sussex team. It was a no brainer. I quickly changed my plans and hot-footed it to the Swalec Stadium to watch a morning's cricket in the beautiful spring sunshine.
When Charlie called later in the day to ask if I could collect the car it all seemed a simple matter. Return to the bus stop, catch the bus back to his garage, pick up the car, hand over the cash and toddle off back over the bridge.
I hadn't counted on the ability of Cardiff Council and Cardiff Bus to cause complete traffic chaos.
I went to all the bus stops I knew where the bus might pick me up and take me back - including the one across the road from where I had alighted earlier. No chance.
I ended up walking a mile around Cardiff City centre without finding the appropriate stop or any pointers as to where the bus might actually pick up.
In the end I walked, fuming and rather hot and sweaty, back to Charlie's garage having been unable to use my All Day pass. Thanks Cardiff Council, thanks Cardiff Bus.
As Woody would say: What a bunch of numpties!